


notre révolution

by PastelMess



Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: M/M, Mental Illness, So be warned, Therapy, there are a lot of things i cannot list without spoiling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-17 01:05:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14177229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelMess/pseuds/PastelMess
Summary: All he wanted was to change the world.





	notre révolution

**Author's Note:**

> Don't put all your trust in the narrator.

“What is it that you want, Tyler?” Silence. She clears her throat. “What is it that I can offer you?”

“I don’t need anything,” he mumbles, sinking lower into the couch. Maybe if he tries hard enough, the sofa will swallow him whole.

“You and I both know that isn’t true. What about music? Isn’t that something you wanted?”

“It was.”

“And it’s not anymore?”

A shrug. “I don’t know.”

“You aren’t being honest with me. I can’t help you if you aren’t honest.”

“What do you want to know?” He looks up, straight into her baby blue eyes. She’s soft, and kind, and beautiful. She gets everything she wants without lifting a finger. He was always honest with her. Why lie? She’d get the truth out of him anyways.

“Why you’ve suddenly stopped talking to me about this whole music interest. I thought you wanted to start a movement. Change the world by adding a new genre. Inspire people.”

“Yeah, well. Changing the world is impossible.”

“And why’s that?”

He takes a deep breath. “We’re all living in the world we’ve constructed around ourselves. Nothing is real and everything is real because we say so. Money, power, time -- only matter because we said they do. All of us are flies, stuck in society’s web. And God? He’s the Spider. He only picks us off when it’s our time. Other than that, we’re stuck, forced to live by society’s rules.”

She taps her pen against her knee and nods her head. There it is again. Society’s social constructs. Act interested. Act like Tyler isn’t crazy. “You could still change the world.”

“Only if I manage to break away from the web.”

“Why can’t you do that?”

“Why can’t you?” He stares at her again, long and hard. Sometimes Tyler wishes he could trade bodies with someone, and fully understand what’s going on in their head. Do they think the same things he does? Probably not. He tended to be more aware of society’s grasp than others.

Ms. Tara Ludgate. Beautiful, blonde, active. She ran in the park every Tuesday and Thursday at 8 o’clock in the morning. Her boyfriend worked at an accounting firm from 9 to 5 and came home with an attitude. How did Tyler know this? Because he watched.

“Tyler, are you still taking your medicine?”

 _No. It pulls me back into society’s grasp._ “Yes.”

“No auditory or visual hallucinations?”

“No.”

“How is work going?” Work. Work is stupid.

“Fantastic.”

“That’s great to hear.” She glances over at the clock. “Well, Tyler, I’ll see you next week. Think again about the whole music thing, okay? A hobby would be good for you. Remember, we’re trying to work on being social. Maybe go to a concert or hang out at a bar. And keep writing. I know how much it helps you.”

“Of course.” He stands up. Puts his hands deep into his pockets and shuffles his shoes across the rugged carpet. After goodbyes comes the walk home. It’s three miles back to his apartment in downtown Columbus, but he doesn’t mind the walk. The bustle of the city keeps him company and he gets to watch strangers who don’t know they’re being watched. There’s a group of friends, stumbling and laughing down the sidewalk. They must be from out of town because they have no idea where they’re going. Further down the street is a father holding the tiny hand of his son. They walk like they have somewhere to be, even though the young toddler can’t keep up and is practically being dragged behind his father.

Then Tyler notices a man with curly brown hair protruding from under his snapback smoking a cigarette. He leans against the window of a boutique and raises an eyebrow when Tyler gazes at him.

His heart leaps a little. Has he seen that man before? Why does he look so familiar?

It’s probably nothing. Lots of people look alike, lots of people look familiar. It’s another one of society’s tendrils pulling us back in.

Tyler pulls his beanie further down over his ears and looks at his feet as he walks, faster this time. He’s beginning to feel a bit uneasy about the man he saw earlier. And that uneasiness deepens when he looks up and the man is walking at the same pace he is, only on the other side of the street.

 _No. No._ _What does he want? Who is he? Why is he following me?_

Tyler comes across a crosswalk and decides on confrontation. That’s a form of socialness, right?

He pads across quickly, ignoring honking cars because he couldn’t be bothered to wait for society to approve his crossing of a street, and slams the man against the wall of an apartment building, causing his cigarette to burn out on the cement below. His eyes flash with fear as Tyler looks him up and down.

“Why are you following me?”

“I’m not!” He claws at Tyler’s arm pressed against his neck. A few bystanders shoot Tyler a “look.” Right. Not appeasing to society’s fucking constructs. “I’m not, dude, please, what the fuck--”

“Who are you?” Tyler about shouts.

“I’m Josh!” He’s still panicking. “I’m nobody, Jesus bro, my name is Josh!” Tyler takes his arm away but keeps a watchful eye.

“Why are you following me?” He asks again. Josh scoffs and rubs at his neck.

“Fuck dude, I already told you I’m not. I’m just heading to the music store down the street.” He gestures in a vague direction towards the music store. “Feel free to join me, if you want. Just don’t fucking try to choke me out again.”

“Sorry,” Tyler mutters. He looks down the street. Well, he already was going to pass it, so might as well. Besides, this could count as “being social.” Dr. Ludgate would be proud. “Uhm, yeah, sure. I’ll come.”

“Cool. You ever been here before?” They fall in line, matching pace. Tyler convinces himself that he’s not succumbing to society’s rules by looking around. He did have a genuine interest in music.

The bell chimes when Josh steps into the store and the cashier looks up from his phone. “You need help finding anything?” He asks.

“We’re good,” Josh answers for them both, leading Tyler to the back of the store. They approach a silver drumset that Josh touches softly.

“Drums?” Tyler raises an eyebrow. He had never really looked into any one particular instrument, instead always left to wonder which would someday be his. “Do you play?”

“Not so much anymore, but I used to.”

“Why’d you stop?”

Josh shrugs lamely. “Shit happens.”

Tyler knows that all too well. That’s what people say when they don’t want to share information. “Yeah. Shit happens.”

“What about you, though?”

“Oh. No, I... I don’t play anything.”

He cocks an eyebrow. “Then why’d you come with me?”

“Interested, I guess.” Josh smiles and pats Tyler’s shoulder.

“We can find something for you.” He slips his hands into his pockets and turns right without even checking if Tyler is following. Tyler is not like that. He’s paranoid. He always looks around him. He is always making sure society won’t capture him. How can Josh be so clueless, so trusting? He invited Tyler to come with him after being threatened by a stranger.

Who is this guy, really?

Josh leads Tyler to a long row of basses. There’s a shiny black one, with red accents, that pulls Tyler its way, and he only questions society’s pull for all of two seconds before he reaches in and touches it.

“How about that?” Josh smiles as he takes a step back and folds his arms over his chest. “Seems like you made a friend.”

“Very strange sentence,” mumbles Tyler, but he doesn’t turn Josh’s way. It feels nice, the strings are taut, and the tone is low. He runs his fingers across the frame. “Very strange.”

“You should get it.”

A snort. “This is a month’s worth of rent.”

“We’ll find something cheaper for you, then.” Josh is off again, walking to the other side of the store where there’s a display of bright and colorful ukuleles. It’s... it’s mesmerizing. Tyler really wasn’t a fan of bright colors. His apartment was pretty dull. Then again... so was his life. If he kept up the same routine and didn’t break the cycle, he wouldn’t succumb to society’s grasps. He wouldn’t get stuck in the web.

Except... he already had. He was here, with Josh, instead of continuing the walk home.

“Bro?” Josh waves a hand in front of Tyler’s face. “You doing okay?”

“Huh?” Tyler blinks a couple of times and realizes he has his hand wrapped around the neck of a ukulele with a crescent moon on it. When had he stopped?

He pulls it off the shelf and cradles it in his hands. “I’m fine.”

“‘Kay,” replies Josh, but he keeps a watchful eye. “How’s that? Thirty bucks. You could manage that.”

“Maybe.”

“I say you get it.” He’s smiling. Tyler doesn’t get it, but he wishes he did. He does want it. But buying it means he’s admitting to having interest which means he’ll get his hopes up which means he’ll fall farther towards society’s tendrils. He doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want that at all.

“Hello? Earth to Tyler?” Josh waves his hand again, looking more worried this time.

“Why are you so worried? You don’t even know me.”

“And because of that, I can’t worry? Self-care is important, y’know.”

Self-care. What was Tyler doing for self-care? “Right.”

Josh checks his watch and sighs. “Shoot. I gotta get out of here, but I’ll see you around, right?”

“Uhm, yeah. Sure. Probably.”

“Cool.” With one more charming smile, he’s gone. Poof. Tyler blinks a couple of times, looks back at the rack of ukuleles, and shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, man? Everything alright?” The cashier from earlier calls from the counter. His brows are knitted. Seriously, is everyone constantly trying to make sure he’s alright? This kid can’t be more than sixteen. What does he know about being “alright?” Sixteen was a terrible age for Tyler.

“I’m fine.”

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?”

Tyler doesn’t respond, and instead, walks out of the store.

-

“I made a new friend.” Another week, another therapy appointment. Dr. Ludgate, or rather, Tara, as she wants to be called, raises an eyebrow and smiles.

“Did you now? How’d you guys meet?”

 _I threatened him because I thought he was following me. Fuck. I’m crazy, aren’t I?_ “He uh... we met on the street. He complimented my hat.” Tyler points to his beanie. It’s red, this time. He never leaves home without one.

“And you accepted his generosity?”

“I didn’t have much of a choice.”

“You always have a choice, Tyler.” She scribbles something important down in that stupid leatherbound notebook of hers. Today, she’s using a blue ink ballpoint pen. Classy. “What happened after that?”

“We went to the music store.”

Tara crosses one leg over the other and beams proudly. “Wow. Did you enjoy that?”

“He’s kinda weird.”

“In what ways?”

 _He’s not weird. I’m the weird one. He’s just being friendly._ “I dunno.”

“What’s he look like?”

“He’s about my height, with long, curly brown hair. But he’s always wearing a hat. And his style is... odd, to put it lightly. His shirts are three times too big and he loves name brand sneakers. Oh, and he smokes.”

“Him smoking isn’t triggering you at all, is it?” Right. Tyler used to smoke too. He had been clean almost a year now.

“Nah. The smell is actually kinda nice. Homey.”

“That’s good. He sounds nice. Is it possible you have any sort of romantic attraction towards him?”

“Yeah,” he admits, “he’s pretty cute. But that’s not why I talked to him. He’s interesting.”

“How is he when it comes to the depths of society?”

“I think he might have a chance.” They share a smile. Tara nods her head rapidly in excitement.

“Well, you’ve certainly had quite the week. Keep up the good work, okay? And how’s that medicine working out for you? No hallucinations?”

“Not since last year.”

“Awesome. I’m really proud of you, Tyler.”

 _Sorry for all the white lies. I’m trying to protect you._ “Thank you, Tara. I’m proud of myself, too.”

Tyler walks home again, this time with his hood pulled over his beanie. It’s drizzling, dousing the world in a sea of greys. Cars honk in the distance and conversations float by as couples walk past him. He keeps his head down. People are the worst. They are the ones who construct society and add chaos to the world around them. They follow trends and gossip about celebrities and drink vanilla lattes from Starbucks. They add fuel to society’s dominance.

Someone touches Tyler’s shoulder. He spins around and pushes them up against the wall of a barber shop.

Shit. It’s Josh.

“Please tell me this won’t be the norm every time we meet.” He’s grinning. Always so happy. Jesus, this dude is everything Tyler isn’t.

“Sorry. Just, don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Right. You’re a paranoid little guy, aren’t you?”

“I’m taller than you.”

He snorts. “Uh... barely. So whatcha up to today? Wanna grab some lunch?”

“No thank you,” Tyler tries to keep walking. Josh barks out a laugh.

“Not hungry?”

“No.” Josh keeps up with him.

“Are you trying to get rid of me?”

 _No. I’m so fucking lonely._ “Yep.”

“Aren’t you supposed to try being social?” Tyler stops. How does Josh know that? Wait. Did Josh say that? Did he say that?

“I... uhm, I’ll leave you alone, if you want me to.” Josh stares curiously, his head tilted. Tyler presses his tongue against the back of his teeth.

“I’m supposed to be social.”

“Yeah, you mentioned that.” Now, Josh raises an eyebrow. “I mean... guess you should listen to yourself, right?”

Tyler sighs. God. He’s going crazy. Can he not tell when he’s speaking now? Is he finally succumbing to society?

No. No, he won’t. He’ll go against the grain. “Yeah. I’ll get lunch with you.”

Josh cheers.

-

Tyler orders a club sandwich and a coke. Josh gets the same thing. He says he’s up to try new things, but he barely touches his.

“I thought you were hungry,” Tyler says in suspicion.

“I was. Guess my eyes are bigger than my stomach. Want some of mine?” Josh pushes his plate towards Tyler, who grabs a handful of potato chips. He really had been hungry, already completely decimating his meal. “You really were hungry, bro.”

“Yeah, I guess I was.”

“Thanks for coming to lunch with me. I think we could both use some self-love, don’t you think?”

 _Yeah. I don’t love myself enough to ever do that._ “Yes.”

“No way, Tyler, bro, is that you?” The two look up at an approaching man with floppy brown hair and round, pink cheeks. He tries to pull Tyler into some form of “bro-hug,” to which Tyler does not even bother replicating. Mark. Mark, Mark, Mark.

Mark had been Tyler’s next door neighbor up until last year, when he got married and moved into a house in the suburbs. He sits down happily in a chair between Tyler and Josh and grins. He’s always reminded Tyler of a puppy. Always so happy and willing to go with the flow.

“Dude, I haven’t seen you since last year! How’ve you been?”

Last year. Last year was terrible. Tyler refused to think about it. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good to hear, man. You dating anyone?”

“No.”

Mark nods, and then gestures to the food on the table. “Hungry, huh?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m glad you’re eating. You were nothing but bones last time I saw you.” He pats Tyler’s chest, who uncomfortably wiggles around in response. Josh stifles a laugh. “How’s work?”

 _It fucking sucks._ “Great.”

“Awesome! Awesome. Well hey, you haven’t met my wife yet, have you? I bet she’d love to meet a handsome guy like you. Just don’t convince her you’re better.” He laughs loudly, making Tyler even more uncomfortable. “You should come over for dinner sometime, man. Do you still have the same phone number?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool. Well, I’ll let you get back to lunch. Catch you later, pal.” One more pat on the back, and Mark is gone. Tyler sighs loudly and Josh finally laughs.

“The fuck, dude? Who is that guy?”

“He was my old neighbor.”

“Seems like the complete opposite of a person you’d be caught dead with.”

A snort. “Fucking tell me about it.”

“Speaking of which, where do you live? Anywhere nearby?”

“A couple miles down the road. Why?”

Josh shrugs. “I mean, we’re friends, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Friends tend to show each other their places. Just sayin’.”

“Okay, then. You can come over. It’s nothing exciting.”

“Don’t need anything exciting to watch a movie. Unless you don’t have a computer.”

“I have a computer.”

“Excellent.”

-

“Are you still hanging out with your friend?” Dr. Ludgate has her leatherbound notebook again. It has a pink sticky note sticking out of it. Tyler wonders if that’s where his fucked up life starts. Maybe everyone’s life starts with a post-it note sticking out of society.

“Yeah.”

“You seem a lot happier today. Big plans today?”

“Not really, just feeling better about life.”

“Ooh, is that positivity I’m hearing?”

Tyler shrugs. Maybe. He doesn’t know much about positivity.

“I’m proud of you. It seems this friend of yours is really helping.”

“He really is.”

When Tyler gets home, there’s a large package on his doorstep. Puzzled, Tyler lugs the package into his living room and pulls his beanie off his head. After running his fingers through his hair, he grabs a pair of scissors and opens up the box. Inside is the ukulele with the crescent moon. His eyes widen.

At the bottom is a note. He reaches in and flips it open.

 

_‘Figured it was time for you to start learning. Love, Josh.’_

 

Did Josh buy him a fucking _ukulele?_

No. No!

He takes the ukulele in his hands and strums downwards. Damn. Is this it? Is this the moment Tyler gives in to his dreams? Is this the moment he succumbs to society’s grasp?

No. Maybe it’s okay to join the rest of society, to be normal. Josh trusted him enough to buy one. Josh. He needed to speak to Josh.

Tyler sets the uke down and saunters towards the door, grabbing his phone and his wallet on the way. He reaches the top of the stairs...

Only to realize Josh is standing there, smiling, his arms crossed. He raises an eyebrow and takes a step forward. “Hey, bro.”

“You bought me a ukulele?”

“C’mon, we both know you wanted one. You’re a music guy, aren’t you?”

“No--”

“You write. You showed me that. You could get big someday.”

“That’s not reasonable.”

“Better than working at some stupid tech company the rest of your life, right?”

Tyler shakes his head. “No. No, we’ve only known each other for three weeks--”

“We’ve known each other for three months, dude. Did you forget again?”

Three months? Three _fucking months?_ No. There’s no way. There’s no way!

He struggles to stand, slumping against the wall. Three months? Of his life? Gone?

Josh sighs. “Come on, Ty.” He takes hold of Tyler and leads him back to the apartment, slowly and carefully. Tyler tries to remember.

The music store.

Lunch.

Watching movies.

That’s all he remembered. What had happened? Why couldn’t he remember?

They sit down on the sofa. Josh wraps his arm around Tyler’s shoulders. “Hey.”

Tyler says nothing. Josh sighs. “Come on, bud. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say?” _I don’t remember. I don’t remember. Why can I not remember?_

“Have you been taking your medicine?”

“Yes.”  _No._

“Are you sure?”

_Am I sure? No. I’m not sure. Just like I don’t know what I did in the past three months of my life. What happened? What did I do? What did I DO?_

Tyler followed his routine. He woke up. He ate breakfast. He took his meds. He went to work. He came home. Once a week, he went to therapy.

Notebook. He wrote. He wrote every day.

Josh doesn’t follow after Tyler when he stands up and rushes to his bedroom. He yanks open his bedside table drawer, ignoring as it clatters to the ground at his toes. It’s nothing special, a green, spiral bound notebook he got for sixty-nine cents at Walmart, but it contains _everything._

 

June 19th, 2017.

_Woke up at 8:15 am. To work by 9._

_Met with Dr. Ludgate at 5:30 pm. Walked home._

 

That was today. Okay. Okay. A month ago.

 

May 19th, 2017.

_Woke up at 8:15 am. To work by 9._

_Met with Dr. Ludgate at 5:30 pm. Began walk home. Ran into Josh._

_Got Chinese takeout. Went home. Watched movie._

_He kissed me._

 

No. Nononononono. What? _What?_

Tyler flips back to one more month.

 

April 20th, 2017.

_Woke up at 8:15 am. To work by 9._

_Left early to go get lunch with Josh. We’re talking more and more now. I really like him. I really, really like him. Dr. Ludgate and I have been talking. I’m being more social. She’s proud of me._

_I thought succumbing to society would ruin my life, but so far, it’s been okay._

 

He rubs his head. None of it makes sense. This seems like something he would remember. Tyler would remember kissing Josh.

Wouldn’t he?

“Ty?” Josh is standing in the doorway, a frown on his face. He removes his hat and sets it on Tyler’s dresser. Tyler doesn’t turn around. He realizes how crazy he probably looks, hunched over his notebook, surrounded by whatever the fuck was in his drawers. He’s crazy. He knows he’s crazy. “Tyler. Hey.”

“We kissed.” He falls flat against the floor, still dazed. “Why don’t I remember?”

“You will,” Josh promises, squatting down next to him. “This isn’t the first time you’ve forgotten.”

“I... I was trying so hard to fight the corrupt concepts of society, to not fall into line like everyone else, and by trying... I did. I’ve lost.”

“No, you haven’t lost anything. You’re sick, Ty. It’s okay to slip up a few times. Just get back in the habit of taking your meds.”

“I have been.”

“No you haven’t. The pharmacy keeps calling you about picking up your prescription.”

Josh is right. Tyler remembers hitting ignore. He convinced himself he was fine, that everything was fine. He was lying to himself, keeping information from himself, but at what cost? How long had he been hiding from himself?

“I’ve been alone for too long. I... I can’t take care of myself.” He’s mumbling, mostly to himself, but Josh picks up on it and pulls Tyler up off the ground to instead rest him on the bed.

“It’s okay, that’s why I’m here.” Josh sits down next to him. His hands are warm and solid. Tyler closes his eyes and pictures a field full of sunflowers. In the middle is Josh, sitting on a blanket, smiling ear to ear.

Real Josh pulls Tyler down and wraps his arms around him. He buries his head in Tyler’s neck. “It’s okay. I’m here. I’m not going to leave you.”

The sun is shining and the sky is blue. Tyler tentatively sits down and takes the open can of Coke Josh offers him.

The scene changes. Tyler is driving, with Josh in the passenger seat next to him. Josh’s hair is yellow, and it’s raining. Josh keeps talking about how much he loves the rain, and Tyler tells him to shut up. The sky grows darker.

Josh kisses him. Tyler remembers now. He was trying to protect himself from getting hurt. That’s why he stopped taking his medicine. That’s why he let himself forget. He doesn’t want a repeat of last year.

“A year ago,” his voice wobbles, and Josh stops, “I got into a car accident, and my fiance died.”

Josh’s breath hitches. “I’m sorry. That sounds terrible.”

“I was driving. It was my fault.” They are back in the sunflower field. Tyler relaxes. “I’ve been so set on forgetting that I went too far, and now, there are gaps in my memory.” A warm hand touches his. Josh.

“Thank you for telling me. I know it’s only been three months, but I trust you.”

“I trust you too. I’m just... I’m cautious.”

“Understandable.”

“And if I forget things, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’ll remember. You’ll always remember.” Tyler turns his head, and Josh kisses him again, this time on the lips. It’s soft, gentle. Sweet. Josh tastes like comfort. Like a warm bed. Like sun against his skin.

Like a field of sunflowers.

-

“I forgot again.” Tyler feels ashamed, and he knows Dr. Ludgate can tell. He refuses to look up.

“You’re blocking out parts?”

“Yes. I thought I was doing better, but I’m not.”

“That’s not true, Tyler. You are doing better. It’s okay to make mistakes.”

He scoffs as he runs his fingernails across his jeans. They’re long. “You sound just like him.”

“Who, your friend?” Tara already knows the answer to that. What a stupid question. “Right. Well, it sounds like he’s just trying to look out for you.”

“I thought I was taking my medicine, and I haven’t been. I cut it out of my life. I cut Josh out of my life. I thought I had only known him for a few weeks, and it turns out, it’s been a couple of fucking months. I’m worse than I thought.”

“It was his birthday last week. Maybe you were trying to forget that.”

Right. Birthdays. Tyler always had thought they were stupid. Nothing but a day to count down to a year closer to death. Society was so obsessed with time. Don’t be late. Countdowns for holidays. Countdowns for new gadgets and movies and fast food joints being built. Time wasn’t even real. It was another made up concept society bowed down to. Why does it matter? Because we are the ones who give it power.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

“This is the first time since the accident. This is new territory. We have to learn as we go.” She reaches for a clipboard and begins writing something down. “I’m upping your dosage. Will you go to the pharmacy and pick it up today?”

“Yes. I can do that.”

“Thank you.” She tears the page off and hands it to him. “If we need to make more frequent appointments, we can. I’m here to help you. And you know you can always call if you need to.”

“I know.”

She smiles. “It’s going to be alright, Tyler.”

He goes home. What if nothing is real? What if he’s constructing a world around himself, protecting his conscience, his soul, his mentality. What is it that he’s forgetting such important information?

Tyler doesn’t see Josh that night. He spends his evening reading his journal entries over the past months, piecing together information. Some of it is starting to come back to him. Josh telling him he’s hot. He says it jokingly, but Tyler swallows nervously and ducks his head. That’s how Josh knew.

He doesn’t need to conceal his face with tightly knitted hats when he’s around Josh. Josh is the blockade between him and society’s grasp. They’ve only known each other for three months and Tyler trusts Josh with his whole world.

Tyler pulls his phone out and dials Josh’s number. The tone rings only once before a robotic voice informs him that the number is no longer in service.

He frowns. No, they had just texted the other night. He exits out of the app, pulls up his messages, and sure enough, the last person he talked to was Josh.

Tyler taps out a message. _Did u get a new phone #_

Josh replies instantly. _No_

An uncomfortable pit forms in his stomach. _Okay. Calm down. There’s always a reasonable explanation._

Josh calls him. Tyler answers. “Hello?”

“See? Everything is fine.”

“Huh. Sorry. Panicked for nothing.”

“No, of course, you didn’t. How was therapy? Did you get your new medicine?”

“Yeah. I already took it.”

“‘Atta boy.”

Tyler chuckles a little. “Thanks.”

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Nah. I’ll be okay. Thank you, though. I’m starting to remember.”

“That’s great, Ty. I knew you would.”

-

Sometime last week, Mark had finally gotten back to Tyler about a dinner party, and Tara, always so enthusiastic about Tyler doing anything remotely social, encouraged the hell out of it. So here he was, at Mark’s new house, with his wife, sitting awkwardly on a kitchen stool while he played with the sleeves of his jacket.

Mark’s wife is named Jenna, which is funny. Tyler had a friend named Jenna too, but he hadn’t spoken with her in a long time. Not since the accident. He wonders what she’s been up to. He saw online that she got a new job. Good for her.

“So, Tyler! Mark says you’re single.” Jenna brings Tyler back to reality. He nods.

“Uh... yeah.”

“I’m sorry to hear about what happened.”

“Don’t be. I’ve moved on.”

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Uh, yeah. Actually. I am.”

Mark coos from where he’s sauteing vegetables in a frying pan. “Hell yeah. Get some action, bro.”

 _Gross._ “Yeah.”

“Mark, don’t be crude. That’s really great, Tyler. And work is good? Are you still at that tech company?”

“Yes.”

“You still enjoying it?”

This feels like another fucking therapy session. God, he hates this so much. _I hate work._ “Yeah, it’s great.”

There are a few moments of silence. She’s probably wondering why he isn’t trying to make conversation back with her. Truth is, Tyler hates talking to people. Small talk to pointless. It always leads back to whatever trend or celebrity society is obsessed with that week.

“Uhm,” she coughs into the crook of her elbow, “Mark says you like music.”

“Yeah.”

“What kind of music do you like?”

 _Obscure Indie bands._ “Classical.” He smirks, and Jenna rolls her eyes.

“Was that a joke I just got out of you?”

“Score one babe,” Mark tries to worm himself into the conversation again.

Jenna laughs as reaches out to touch the top of Tyler’s hand. “Seriously though, thank you for coming over. It really means a lot to Mark and me.”

“Sure,” Tyler nods. His stomach twists.

-

A month passes. Tyler goes to work and takes his medicine and goes to therapy. Everything is normal, and at night, he hangs out with Josh. Sometimes they lay in bed together and talk. Sometimes they watch movies. And sometimes, Josh sits while Tyler practices with the ukulele.

“What are you going to call it?” Josh asks.

“What?”

“The ukulele. You have to give it a name.”

“Oh.” He stares at it. Touches it. Josh presses his finger to the moon.

“What about Chicago?”

“Chicago. I like that.” Tyler sighs and flops backward on the sofa, setting Chicago on the floor next to him. “Would you start a band with me?”

“Start a band?”

“Yeah. You play drums.”

“A two-person band? I think that’s called a duo.”

“‘Would you start a duo with me?’ sounds really stupid.”

Josh laughs. “Okay, yeah. It does sound stupid.” He pauses. “Yeah, I’d like to start a band with you. That would be fun. Where would you want to meet? Can’t exactly get a drumset in here.”

“You don’t need a drumset right now. It’s not that hard to keep rhythm.”

Josh scoffs. “I’d beg to differ.”

“Keep the beat on the table. There, easy.”

He huffs and jokingly punches Tyler’s shoulder. “I’m going to let that slide, pal.”

There’s a long moment of silence. Tyler hears the flick of a lighter and the smell of nicotine fills his nostrils. Sure enough, Josh has a cigarette sticking out of his mouth.

“What are we?” Asks Tyler.

Josh raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Like... us. Our relationship.”

“Ah.” He pulls his cigarette away and blows out smoke. “I dunno. What do you want us to be?”

Tyler fiddles with his sleeves. “I like you. A lot.”

“I like you, too.”

“Okay. So we’re in the like zone?” He smiles.

“Do you want me to come out and say it, dude?”

“A little bit.”

“Fine. I’d like you, uhm, to be my boyfriend.”

“I’d love too.”

“Cool.” Josh laughs nervously and squashes his cigarette into an ashtray Tyler forgot he still had. Tyler pulls him closer and breathes in his scent. It’s familiar. It calms him down.

Josh runs his fingers up and down Tyler’s arm. “Would you tell me more about your fiance?”

Tyler sucks in a breath. He hadn’t talked about his fiance in a long time, not since right after the accident. Even Tara was cautious about bringing him up.

“You don’t have to,” Josh adds after a second. “Not if you don’t want to.”

“He uh,” Tyler swallows thickly. His stomach clenches. “He was awesome. Really easy to talk to, which was nice. I’m not exactly the best person when it comes to being social.” A scoff. “But he... he made it so simple.”

“That’s really nice,” Josh says. “Am I easy to talk to?”

“Yeah. You are. In a lot of ways, you remind me of him. Except he had yellow hair. It was like, this bright, neon color, and he said I would never be able to lose him. I know he might have meant that in a different way than I interpreted because I did lose him.”

“Did you love him?”

“I did. I loved him a lot. He meant the world to me. There really weren’t a lot of people I felt that way about. I guess... even now, there aren’t a lot of people I feel that way about.”

“Sounds like he was pretty special.”

“He was.”

“What was his name?”

Tyler pulls away from Josh and looks at him. Something doesn’t feel right. His stomach twists even more. “S-Sorry, what did you say?”

“His name. I asked what your fiance’s name was.”

“It was...” Flash of yellow. The screech of tires. Rain pounds on the windshield. “His name, it, uhm, it...” Screaming. Blood. Fade to black.

Tyler blinks, and suddenly, he’s naked, in bed, with Josh asleep next to him. He looks at his alarm clock. It’s six in the morning.

Dammit. He blacked out again Blocked out important information. What is he forgetting? Better yet, what does he not want to remember?

Yawning, he sits up in bed and scratches his chest. His neck burns when he wiggles his jaw. Did he and Josh have sex? Probably. What happened after that talk? Did they ever finish it? Tyler needs answers. He needs to stop pretending nothing happened.

He needs to stop forgetting.

With one more glance at Josh, Tyler slides out of bed and pulls on a pair of boxers from the floor before padding into the living room where he left his laptop. Josh’s cigarette still fumes from the ashtray, which is suspicious. When did Josh go to sleep?

Tyler can picture him sitting on the couch in his underwear, smoking a cigarette as he stared at nothing. It’s Noire. It’s sexy.

He opens his laptop, types in his password, and stares at the home screen. It’s a picture he had taken right after he’d gotten engaged. They went to a hockey game, and even though Tyler hated sports, it was one of his favorite nights ever. Popcorn, soda, laughter, romance, and men on ice skates barreling into each other like the thoughts in Tyler’s head.

The mouse hovers over a folder labeled “Fiance.” Tyler hasn’t touched it since the accident, but he knows he should look. It’s time to stop pretending. To stop forgetting. And to start living life again.

 _Click click._ His hands shake and he glances over his shoulder to peak at his bedroom, where Josh’s snores can be heard. It’s okay. He keeps telling himself that it’s all okay.

The first picture is of a small stage. Tyler stands, a bass in his hands.

 _Click._ He sits on the edge of the stage, his feet hanging over the edge, balancing a notebook on his knee.

 _Click._ Bright yellow hair. Drumset in the background. And...

Josh.

_What?_

Suddenly in hysteria, Tyler begins to rapidly click through the rest of the pictures. There are candids of Josh laughing. Pictures of them playing music together. Tyler with a ukulele. Holding hands. In the rain.

 _Rain Rain Rain._ Tires screech. Metal twists. Blood covers his hands and his seatbelt chokes him.

Pictures of Josh and him kissing. Tyler showing off his ring. Crowds of people there for _them._ Shouting, and smiling, and singing along.

“Josh is dead...” Tyler whispers to himself. His eyes are wet. “Josh is fucking dead--”

“Ty.” He turns around. Josh is behind him, fully dressed, a frown pressed to his lips. “Hey.”

Tyler jumps off the sofa and scoots back, knocking his knee into the coffee table. “You’re supposed to be dead, how are you, what are you--”

“Tyler, calm down. I can explain, okay?”

“Yeah? Well, you better start talking.”

Josh sighs. “Get dressed. I’ll drive.”

He nods, his hands still shaking, and jogs into the bedroom to shimmy on some jeans and a sweatshirt. Josh is waiting for him, Tyler’s keys and wallet in his hand.

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

-

Josh pulls up in front of a house unfamiliar to Tyler. It’s old and sagging, with chipping blue paint.

“Where are we?”

“You know where we are.”

He doesn’t. Should he? Is this something he’s forgetting again? Well, fine. Don’t blame him. He just found out that his supposedly dead fiance was alive.

Josh leads the way to the doorstep, gesturing every so often to keep Tyler close by. Tyler stares.

“Your hair. It isn’t yellow.”

“I cut it. It grew back brown.”

“How are you alive?” Silence. Josh shakes his head.

“Knock on the door, Tyler.”

“How are you alive?” Tyler asks again.

“Knock. On. The. Door.” Tyler does. Josh steps off the porch and crosses his arms. He nods towards the door when Tyler looks back.

Seconds pass. Birds chirp. The sun is already starting to rise.

“They aren’t answering. It’s probably too early.”

“It’s a little past seven. Give it a sec.”

Tyler waits. He isn’t sure why he’s listening to Josh. He should be demanding answers. Why did he let Josh drive him all the way out here to a random house? Why is he letting any of this happen?

Finally, the door opens, and a young, dark-haired boy in running shorts and a tank top answers. His eyes widen.

“Tyler?”

“You...”

The boy takes a few steps back, leaving the door open, and calls out, “Mom! Dad!”

“No, no, wrong place--” Tyler trips as he leaves the porch, “Sorry--”

Josh stops him. “You aren’t leaving.”

“I don’t know who these people are!”

“Yes, you do.”

“Stop saying that!” Tyler tugs at his hair. Nothing is making any sense and he’s becoming more and more anxious. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on!”

“Tyler?” The boy is back with who Tyler assumes is his parents, every one of them bearing a frown. “Tyler! Oh my God!”

The mother pulls Tyler into a bear hug and sobs into his shoulder. Tyler pushes her off of him. “No, no!”

“Hey, Ty--”

“Stop! Stop saying my name! I don’t know you!”

Her face settles. “Sweetheart, did you forget again?”

_Did you forget again?_

“I didn’t... no... I didn’t forget--”

“We haven’t seen you since the funeral,” the boy says softly. Carefully. Slowly.

Tyler backs up, back to his car, towards escape--

“Sweetie, we’re Josh’s parents.”

No. No.

Tyler wouldn’t forget Josh’s parents, Josh’s _brother--_ why would he forget that? Why would he block that out? Josh’s parents had nothing to do with society, had nothing to do with Josh--

He turns around. Josh is gone.

“Tyler, love, come inside, and we’ll get this all figured out, okay?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No!”

They continue to yell after him as he climbs back into the driver’s seat and slams the door shut. He tucks his head in between his hands and rocks back and forth. He can no longer trust himself about anything. Is he actually here? Is any of this real? Or is he constructing his own reality?

Tyler spent so much time pitting against society that he constructed his own world. He succumbed to his own constructs because he didn’t want to admit that Josh...

“Hey.” A hand touches his shoulder, and Tyler doesn’t need to turn around to know who it is.

“I know you aren’t here right now,” he whispers. Tears fall over his eyelids. “I know you aren’t real.”

Josh sighs. “Yeah. Took you a while, though.”

“I don’t need you chastising me.”

“Technically you’re chastising yourself.”

“FUCK YOU!” He roars, banging his fist against the steering wheel. The taste of nicotine fills his mouth.

It had been him this whole fucking time. Him visiting the music store, him getting lunch, him watching movies, him smoking those fucking cigarettes. No wonder people gave him strange looks. He was fucking talking to no one.

Tyler had been lying to himself this whole time.

“You know what you have to do,” Josh says quietly. Through his tears, Tyler looks up at Josh’s family, gathered together, looking at him with fear and sympathy. They’re hoping Tyler will come to his senses and get out of the car to speak with them. The thing is, Tyler still doesn’t have the whole story. He doesn’t remember their names or how much they knew about his relationship with Josh. Right now, they’re just pawns in a narrative Tyler excluded them from.

Josh is right. Tyler knows what he has to do.

He turns over the ignition and drives away.

-

The tombstone still looks new, with only minor weather stains from rain and snow. Tyler wants to run away and hide. No wonder everyone tiptoed around him when it came to Josh’s death.

Josh, of course, doesn’t seem to give two shits as he sits atop his own gravestone. “I’m a little disappointed you haven’t visited since the funeral. Not even to bring me flowers.”

“Shut up.”

Josh shakes his head. “You haven’t been taking your medicine. You’ve been lying to everyone you know.”

“God, just shut up!” Tyler wants to kick him, even if he knows Josh is nothing more than a hallucination, or some weird concept of an imaginary friend.

“Hey, you know why you created me. You just don’t want to admit it to yourself.” Josh begins to circle around him. “You wanted to get back into music, but you didn’t know how without feeling guilty for doing it without me. Even though deep down, you knew I wouldn’t care. You started smoking again, but projected it onto me so you wouldn’t feel bad about yourself. You pretended you were being social, even though you were talking to yourself. You forced yourself to forget everything and everyone that was related to me, including my own family.”

“It was too hard.” Tyler didn’t know why he was making excuses. Josh-- well, he, was right.

“All they wanted was to love you.”

“You don’t think I know that? I know I was an asshole.”

“The only way to admit it to yourself was to make me up.”

“You made everything better,” he shakes his head, more angry now that upset, “And it was my fucking fault you died.”

“No, it wasn’t, bro. It was raining. We hydroplaned, lost control. It happens. And you were injured too. I was just unlucky.”

A scoff. “Why am I arguing with myself?”

“I was going to ask you the same question.”

Silence. Tyler stares at the _Joshua Dun_ carved into the stone. “I don’t know what to do now.”

“You change the world.”

“Change the world.” _We’re all living in the world we’ve constructed around ourselves. Nothing is real and everything is real because we say so. Money, power, time -- only matter because we said they do. All of us are flies, stuck in society’s web. And God? He’s the Spider. He only picks us off when it’s our time. Other than that, we’re stuck, forced to live by society’s rules._

_I’m living by my world’s rules._

“Time heals, Tyler.”

“Yeah? Not if I can’t control my own fucking life.”

“That’s why you let people help you, even if they succumb to society’s rules. You obviously do.”

Tyler thinks about Tara. About Mark, and Jenna. About Josh’s family. About his own family, who he hasn’t seen in quite some time. His phone log was full of missed calls from his sister and his mom.

“I know it’s hard, but you know what you have to do.”

“I know.” Josh is right. Josh is him, technically, so, he’s right. The goal is to get better, right? To stop the hallucinations. To...

“Say it.”

“Change the world.”

Josh smiles, presses a kiss to Tyler’s cheek, and rests his hands on his shoulders. “I’ll see you around, okay? You change the world.”

He closes his eyes.

Josh is gone, but Tyler is no longer alone.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you tell what show I've been binge-watching?


End file.
